


Priorities

by zeuswrites



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeuswrites/pseuds/zeuswrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Does this top make my boobs look small?”</p>
<p>Simmons typed the last three digits, backtracked to the beginning to delete a stray period – then back to the end to closed it with a bracket – before looking up at Kai. She was wearing the tiniest tank top he had ever seen. It looked like she had ripped it off a particularly saucy toddler in a barfight. The brocade butterflies in the front were streched nearly beyond recognition – they looked <i>pained.</i></p>
<p>“If there’s a top in this galaxy that could do that, this is not this one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priorities

**Author's Note:**

> A 2012 fic, holy cow. Simmons is making strides in handling his nervous breakdowns after touching boobs. _Strides_ , I tell you.

“Does this top make my boobs look small?”

Simmons typed the last three digits, backtracked to the beginning to delete a stray period – then back to the end to closed it with a bracket – before looking up at Kai. She was wearing the tiniest tank top he had ever seen. It looked like she had ripped it off a particularly saucy toddler in a barfight. The brocade butterflies in the front were streched nearly beyond recognition–they looked _pained._

“If there’s a top in this galaxy that could do that, this is not this one."

“Are you suuuuuuure?,” she whined as she stepped closer, knocking Simmons’ glasses off with her right nipple in the process. He placed his hand flat againt her sternum and extended his arm, gently pushing her away. She looked down at his hand, first, then at his face (currently in a Sarge-approved palette), then his hand again, her smile quickly turning into a scowl.

“Alright, what the fuck is so great about that thing you’re writing here? Because if you’re not programming us a threesome bot, I will motorboat you to death. These babies,” she pointed to her ribcage, “have a _body count_.”

Simmons took his glasses off and started wiping them furiously, trying his best to keep his face out of sight. He let out a couple choked sounds, a nervous giggle, took a deep breath, and gave up on everything. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing requesting time-out during social interactions was a thing. Dealing with Kai in real time was like a timed test that he had actively avoided studying for all his life.

Donut dropped by just then with a bag of chips (bless him), distracting Kai and giving Simmons several seconds to compose himself.

“I’m updating our communication protocols,” he finally mumbled. “Somebody was trying to break into our archives last night.”

“Who cares? Do we even have anything there?”

“Crockpot recipies? Uh, Tucker's porn – I honestly think he's running a torrent network out the canyon – Donut’s fanfiction…” Kai raised her eyebrow. “Look, I have a bad feeling about this. Things got kinda crazy here while you were gone, and I just want to be on the safe side.” He waited a moment for a response but, with none coming, then turned back to re-read his improved code from the beginning.

Kai stood next to him for a good minute, radiating enough irritation to melt his freckles off. But Simmons hadn’t endured weeks of Grif’s hateful stares after Kai announced they were ("-SCREWING! YEAH, BITCHES!," she shrieked over the open channel. " _In a mutually-respectful relationship!_ ," Simmons broadcasted in panic a second later) for nothing. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and Simmons gained a wonderful ability to endure non-verbalized hostility without so much as a sniffle, even though he was pretty sure he was going to get a bald spot where Grif glared daggers at the back of his head.

Kai let her arms drop idly to her sides before grabbing Simmons’ hand off the mouse and raising his arm like a toll gate. And with one quick swoop of her leg, she was in his lap, pressing close to his chest. He yelped and flailed, then went completely still. Kai pressed even closer, rutting slightly against his hips, lips tracing his neck.

“Be done soon,” she demanded, stretching her arms out and lacing her fingers behind his head. “I’m not eating myself out tonight, jerk. I mean, you know how much removing a rib costs? No thanks.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and the back of the chair, and rested her head in the crook of his neck. She smelled like bacon chips and glitter and fresh sweat, and he wasn’t sure what it said about him that he really wanted to bury his face in her hair and inhale. She was radiating heat like a stove; Simmons was sure she was burning him. Doing _something_ to him. He wasn’t currently in a position to be sure of things.

Simmons nodded slowly, staring straight ahead, and resumed typing, much less efficiently than before.


End file.
